


Every Second Counts (On A Clock That's Ticking)

by poppetawoppet



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 16:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4752698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/pseuds/poppetawoppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-type-P"><a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://sugarpainted.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://sugarpainted.livejournal.com/"><b>sugarpainted</b></a></span> (for <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-type-C"></span><a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://npmexchange.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://npmexchange.livejournal.com/"></a><b>npmexchange</b></p>
<p>Based on Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Second Counts (On A Clock That's Ticking)

>

There are moments on tour that stretch beyond the constraints of normal time. Kris thinks of it like those sports movies, where the touchdown of three yards takes ten minutes to score. He knows it’s a stupid way to think about it, but it makes sense in his head. Mostly.

There's that time in Indiana, when they're playing Scrabble and it's as if the night is never going to end. When they're in Graceland, walking the halls forever.

Every night, right before the lift rises.

Kris has less than two minutes to get off stage and get to the elevator. He has a little time tonight, because all he has to do is throw on the jacket and go.

It's the last night.

Kris doesn't think about it much, except that there's the inevitable sense of loss. Knowing that he won't be stuck with the same nine people tomorrow sort of depresses him. It's been like a long extended field trip with his best friends, and he doesn't want it to end.

He heads to his dressing room, handing his guitar to someone.

Adam's warned him about the jacket, but it still doesn't stop him from letting out a surprised grunt as he puts it on. It's heavier than he thought. And warm.

It smells of leather and sweat and cologne. Kris looks at himself in the mirror and grins. It's completely ridiculous, and somehow perfect. He unconsciously rubs his thumb.

Just a little piece, he thinks.

He breathes for a moment, and knows that he's never going to have a concert where he doesn't think of this moment, this brief amount of peace in all the insanity. Where he doesn't smell leather and hairspray and hum Journey.

Then he hears someone yell a time at him, and he moves.

He ignores the amused looks and heads straight to the tunnel.

"You look completely ridiculous in that," Adam says.

"Nice to see you too," Kris says.

They grin at each other, and Adam adjusts the collar ever so slightly.

It's been that way since day one. Kris always says in interviews that he was really close to Matt, and so on, but he can't explain Adam in closeness terms. Kris is sure the other winners could define it. There's a bond when you go through a journey together, and he and Adam will always have that. No matter what.

"You ready for this?" Adam asks.

"Never."

"Hard to believe it's been five months since Idol."

Kris nods. He knows that any minute, the lift is going to rise, and then it's going to be over.  
But for now, they're still running for that touchdown. Kris looks down at the jacket again.

"I'm going to stink of your sweat and cologne after this," Kris says.

Adam raises his eyebrows. "Better shower before going home, lover boy."

"Jerk."

"You'll miss me."

"Always."

It gets too quiet, the sounds of the stage above them muted, but it's not enough to fill the small area.

"You think, if you could do this forever, you would?" Kris asks.

Adam blinks. "I don't know. Never really thought about it."

"Liar."

"Maybe later. Door's about to open."

"Hey, Adam?"

"Yeah?"

Kris shakes his head. "Nothing. Break a leg."

"Don't trip over the tails."

Kris laughs as the lift begins to rise. If anything, the screams are almost louder than before. He looks at Adam, not even sure he's going to make it through the song this time.  
*

There's never a lot of time after the show. Meet and Greets, and the crowds outside, if they choose to go. But there is time to say goodbyes, now. They make the time.

Adam has made peace with it. He understands that it's time to move on. He doesn't want to though. There's a lot of hugging, and too much crying.

If he is ever asked, he's almost certain surreal is the only word he'll be able to muster. He's done enough theater to know how groups bond over time, but this is almost different. He can't quite explain it, and isn't sure he wants to.

He catches Kris in the dressing room, just as he's about to leave.

"Hey. Nice fake-out with the jacket."

Kris grins and shrugs.

"No, by the way."

Kris looks up. "I'm sorry?"

"As much fun as this has been no, I wouldn't want it to be forever."

"Why?"

There's something more in that question. There's always been a bit of something more between him and Kris this summer. Adam's been careful to sidestep it, and he's noticed Kris doing the same. It's almost an uncertain agreement between them, a line they cannot cross.

Adam leans in the doorway. "Because in the end, we would all hate each other. Anoop and Matt would annoy each other to the point of insanity. Allison would become too precocious instead of merely slightly weird and amusing. I'd get tired of singing the same damn songs every night, and so would you."

Kris nods. "I know. I just wish—"

"One more concert?"

"Yeah."

Adam walks into the room and sits down. "But then it would be just one more. Just one more. And then one night, I'd be sitting here in the dressing room, and we'd be joking around, and then one of us would ruin it."

Kris blinks and says nothing.

"Bad enough we're never going to see each other. I'd rather not we hate each other too."

Adam puts his hand on Kris's shoulder, and for a brief moment he knows it could happen. It could have happened any time on tour, but now, it seems inevitable. They both stand, somehow aware that even though the time is now, the time is also never.

"See you later?"

Kris laughs. "You better believe it. Don't think you are getting out of here without a hug."

"Never."

Maybe Adam leans a little too long and squeezes a little too hard, but after what they've been through, he's not certain anyone but Kris can completely understand where he comes from.

Adam grabs his bags, feeling the spikes of his jacket through the garment bag. He's keeping it for now, although he has no idea when he'll wear it again.

He does know that if he ever does, he'll hear the screams of the crowd, and remember that for just a little while, there was something special and golden.

Even if it wasn't forever.  



End file.
